


Hope You Know

by TheManSings



Series: the next day and forever after that [3]
Category: Shameless (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:30:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheManSings/pseuds/TheManSings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian understands that it's not just about Mickey saving him.</p><p>This has specific references to characters and plot from Through the Night so I suggest not reading unless you've read that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope You Know

_May 15 th –_

_I lost the baby._

Ian darted his eyes away from the notebook and sucked in a breath. He should put it down, should burn it, bury it in the park or shred it for the pure cathartic release. Anything but read it.

_Mickey doesn’t know. Doesn’t even know I was pregnant – thank god._

His hands trembled as the ink became darker when more pressure of rage behind the pen shown through.

_I hope he never finds out, he’s got enough on his mind. So busy being sad all the time he doesn’t even realize it’s a full time job. I swear I’ve never been so relieved to see an angry man than when he twitches with fury because at least I know he’s still feeling something. Still has some type of fire – but god. You think that the worst thing in the world is to see someone die but it’s not._

_It’s to see someone lose their fucking will to live._

The book made a muffled thud as he threw it onto the bed. Ian’s hands recoiling into his body like the words and pages had physically burned him.

It had taken him a full hour to open the cover. Every frayed edge and fingerprint of smudged ink screamed at him. Some horrific example of pain penned down and secrets that can only one day become common knowledge. He was trespassing – invading into the memories of a pretty dead girl he’d only known in her last breaths.

_He had another nightmare, woke up screaming. I thought someone had broken in but it was just another… I don’t know. He never talks about it. Denies ever even puking in fucking throws of shakes like he’s having a conniption fit. But then again, I let him. So which one of us is wrong?_

_Both of us. We’re both fucking wrong. I don’t even know how I mean that anymore._

The floor creaked and Ian jumped whipping his head around preparing to see Mickey, eyebrows raised, unknown facts and secrets heavy in his chest. But nothing – no one was there, just his own fear of what else Stella’s words might reveal.

Rex sighed and rolled from his stomach onto his side by Ian’s feet.

_You know I found him. Ian. It took a little while because I never got a last name out of Mickey but I just needed to see his face. I had to back track it all the way through his sister and I didn’t even know her name for sure – Milkovich, you’d be surprised how many of them seem to be lousing around Chicago._

_When Mandy’s face showed up though, all scowl and pale skinned dark hair, I knew. I fucking knew that she was the one and it didn’t take long after that._

_Amazing what people put on facebook. Annoying even more so when someone doesn’t have one._

_But there was a red headed kid in most of the old pictures she had on there and there was something in his eyes. It made me sick, I’d never felt so bad for the fucker._

_Ian is devastatingly beautiful, heartbreakingly so, clearly. I can just imagine Mickey’s nightmares… losing him over and over? I couldn’t do that. I would have put a bullet in my head long ago. There are just some people that you can’t lose twice._

His knees buckled and he fell to the bed gripping each syllable like they might fade before he could read them all.

_I cried for the baby. Is that weird? I had named him – I just knew it was a him – even though I never actually found out I just knew. I named him Ian. Is that even more weird? Probably a little… but I just wanted to give something back to Mickey that he could steal away, another Ian that he could cling to. I don’t know. It was probably fucking idiotic._

Hot tears started to run down his face like they wanted nothing to do with him. Droplets falling on her words and bleeding them together, one more invasion. And the irony wasn’t lost on him that she had named her unborn child after him – feeling she killed him and he killed her.

Another fat droplet of salt water shattered onto the page.

_Mickey was asleep, his eyes scrunched up in pain the whole night. I didn’t need confirmation from anyone, I could feel the loss._

_He cried that night too. 3 nights ago now? Yea, Friday night. He cried while I cried but he was asleep and it made me cry more. I had a reason for it, a physical aching loss and blood on my hands while he just had holes punched into him from everyone he ever knew._

_The last thing I want to do is punch a hole in him. God I hope he never finds out – hope he doesn’t know whose it was. Hope I can just stay happy – for a little bit._

_He tries so hard, he really does and that’s why he hurts. Because I have never known a man who loves with every ounce of himself like Mickey and that’s dangerous. I almost wish he didn’t care that much._

_What does that mean for him when he loses the object of it all? I hope Ian knew that he loved him. I hope he’s alive – Maybe I’ll meet him someday._

_Mickey says to not hold my breath. But it’s not like I have anything better to do. I’ll hold my breath to meet that man, hold it until I’m blue in the face. Even if it fucking kills me._

The words stopped, underlined and drawn over again and again like she’d never meant anything so much in her life.

Ian looked at the clock next to their bed. Mickey would be home soon – Lip and Mandy were bringing Michaela over to visit, they hadn’t seen them in months. He’d went to go meet them at the train and Ian had stayed behind – he wasn’t sure why.

To clean? To take a minute? To find this?

Rex’s tail began wagging even with his eyes closed and seemingly asleep while Ian reached out a hand to knead his fur. A knot formed toward the underside of his belly, he should really get him groomed.

Ian thumbed at his own scar beneath his thin shirt reworking Stella’s words in his mind. The worst thing isn’t watching something die, it’s watching them lose their will to live.

His jaw clenched before the thought faded into nights of strong hands and whispered murmurs of promises. Promises of tomorrow and of love that could choke any number of people that dare get too close when they pass them on the street.

Ian’s tears dried into masks of tightened skin and he wiped at his eyes because it was true. That was the worst thing – to watch that will slip away. And maybe it took Stella slapping him in the face from beyond the grave for him to realize the stinging importance of it all.

Because Mickey wasn’t just saving him –

He threw the journal into the trash before tying the top shut to pin it away forever. She had never meant for someone to find it and he could respect that. Could respect the fact that she was a beautiful genius and he’d never be so much so in someone’s debt.

He hoped she knew that it wasn’t just him Mickey loved.

He hoped she knew he loved her too. 


End file.
